Too Much Too SoonToo Little Too Late
by ThEnAmEsGiGi
Summary: Hermione just couldn't understand it. Why was Draco Malfoy trying to save her? Why did he look at her with those pleading grey eyes, begging her not to choose death? So she asked. A kiss was his response...I don't own Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

I have learned a very valuable lesson in my life. And no its not a lesson as noble as love conquering all or good always triumphs over evil. Its that...

Being weak gets you nowhere

...

Being weak gets you nowhere.

And that is exactly where I am. I am in 'no where'.

I am nothing.

I have no one.

I am only weak.

And try as I might, I can't stop myself from remembering the times when I was something. Like a war hero, a best friend, a daughter and...well what else I have been I can never talk about. I can't talk about.

All I know is that everything that I was, I am no longer. Its heavy. I feel heavy. I feel suffocated.

I feel like the only thing I do have is pain. Painful memories. And nothingness.

...

It all started on a rainy day


	2. Chapter 2

When I was eight years old, my family and I went to a fortune tellers on a trip to France.

This was the time before I knew anything of Hogwarts, that all the strange occurances that happened around me were because of magic, and that I was a witch.

So I obviously had no clue that this old lady with long white hair, tan skin and blind eyes was actually a seer.

I had innocently placed my palm in her hand, skeptical and annoyed that my parents had dragged me into this weird hocus pocus hut, and yet excited and gitty on the inside, though I would not have ever admitted that.

Immediately when our skin made contact, the blind lady had gasped in horror and let go of my hand as if burned.

I can still remember her body shaking and her tears continuously falling.

'_Such sorrow...such sorrow...poor child such_ sorrow...' She kept mumbling in french.

I can still remember my initial reaction was to cry because even at the tender age of eight, I could see in wide clouded eyes that she meant it, that she had felt something truly sorrowful but then of course my rationality kicked in and I immediately chocked it up to the lady being dramatic for effect as did my parents.

This is also one of the reasons why I hated divination back in Hogwarts.

But I was wrong.

That woman had looked into my future and felt my sadness.

And now I don't have to guess what she had seen back that.

Though as they say sometimes, Ignorance is bliss.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry's biggest sorrow ended mostly after the war. But mine started a little after it.

In the beginning of the after effects of the war, Harry was very much distraught. He was a big huge jumble of up and downs. He'd be souring on cloud nine when he was up and would hit rock bottom when he was down. He faced a lot of pressures. Dealing with the press, being the upstanding hero, doing interviews, accepting awards, signing autographs, posing for pictures, managing the ministry. It was chaotic and hectic and Harry couldn't face it.

He was bitter and angry...

He was always plagued with a needless sense of guilt over the victims of the war. He took every casualty, every cursed, every unrecoverable person as a fault of his own. And even more emotions that I couldn't even begin to understand back then...

I remember Ron, Ginny and I always having to keep an eye on him like he was a fragile porcelain cup that was teetering over the edge to nothing. He took up doing bad things; drinking, smoking, potions; many times we would have to discreetly sneak him out of a pub and get him off of some ditzy fan girl and nurse him back to health. It was endless.

It left the three of us with no time to fix ourselves.

Ron and his unyielding guilt of leaving Harry and me alone in the forests and the death of his brother.

Ginny and her jealousy complex towards me and her possessiveness over Harry and her dead brother as well.

Me with abandoning my parents and coming to terms that I might feel more for Harry than just friendship and feeling guilt over that when I had Ron.

And then coming to terms of the actual battle, the ones that we lost, the ones that will never be whole again.

Emotions were high and when it boiled over, it full on raged.

But for the most part it started on a rainy day.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up because of the pitter patter of the rain outside. Back then I was a light sleeper, now I am an insomniac.

Often times I wonder what would have happened if I had just went back to sleep. However, this day is not one of my regrets by any means. There is no way that I regret this day or what had happened.

I had woken up because of the rain, was fascinated by the soft soothing sounds it made and feeling sentimental I decided I would enjoy the fleetingness of the four o clock hour.

Something made me think of Harry. Then again, I was always thinking of Harry.

I had decided I would go check on him maybe watch him sleep for a little while listening to the soft sounds of the rain. I was being romantic.

And with a sideline glance to make sure Ginny didn't wake up as I walked out the door, I was also being treacherous.

Yet, as I stated before, emotions were high and I was very vulnerable after the war and weak...

I crept to Harry's room in the burrow where we were all staying at. It had been immediately fixed for Harry and the Weasley family only after a few weeks when the war was finished. Harry had told the ministry that he would do absolutely nothing until he had the only place he has ever known of a home fixed so fix the ministry did.

Besides, Harry was always the calmest when surrounded by the Wealsey family.

This time though, when I found him he was gittery and anxious from a nightmare.

I didn't think about it, I just immediately reached out for him when he turned to look at me, shaking uncontrollably curled up in a rocking ball in front of the windowsill looking skinnier than a flower, paler than a ghost and wide green eyes lost like an abandoned child.

I wrapped my arms around him, placed my legs on either side of him so that he could feel my warmth surrounding him and leaned his head down to my shoulder and just rocked with him, letting the rain fill the silence.

Eventually, I started planting kisses on whatever I could reach. Holding him in my arms, I could only feel want and love for him. It was so clear to me then how much I did. I didn't even have a thought that maybe what I was doing was wrong. That Harry was unstable and vulnerable and unfit to make rational decisions. Besides I was the rational one, I didn't make disastrous mistakes.

And I still did not.

I do not find making love to Harry a mistake.

My lips had trailed from his his hairline down his cheek and then slowly to his unresponsive lips. But I was persistent, I didn't stop planting kisses on them until the hesitantly started responding back to me. I kept kissing him and running my hands through his hair, down his back to his chest until I could feel a reaction to me and then I gently pushed Harry back down onto the mattress, I undid his shirt, I trailed my hands down his chest to his pants, I trailed kisses all over him, I pulled down his pajamas, unleashed his manhood and I put him inside me. I took his virginity just as much as he took mine.

I did it all.

I couldn't even think rationally, I hadn't been able to since before the war ended. Maybe the realization, the starting point was that time in the forest but if i'm honest maybe it was even sooner. Way sooner.

I just knew undoubtedly that I was in a complete rut around him in the months after the war. My emotions towards him were in such a disarray that I felt feverish in my own skin around him. I was tortured at seeing him around Ginny, around any girl. I was constantly watching him, so much so that I could think of nothing but him every second of every hour of every day. He was my first priority, over getting back my parents, over dealing with Ron, over facing Ginny.

I was always there for Harry through ever single wrong and right for eight years straight and I finally came to terms with why. Because I loved him.

And when I finally admitted that to myself all I wanted to do was act on it.

And so in a heated moment, in unadulterated selfishness I did.

I gave Harry my love.

And sadly that's what blew things over.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry couldn't face me anymore after that.

During making love Harry had kept looking at me with an indescribable face. He was shocked, I could tell, almost horrified yet unable to stop it, unable to move, wanting it and desperately not wanting it. He was torn through it all but when it was done he wasn't torn at all.

He was absolutely shattered.

I cleaned him up right afterwards. I tried not to break as silent tears slide down his eyes and some gathered in mine. He didn't look at me as I sat there next to him just silently crying as he silently cried and the rain kept falling softly outside.

I had the sense to know what I did was terrible. I didn't have the sense to think of what it really had done to Harry. That it was another guilt to fester in his head.

No, I didn't realize until too late.

I only thought about how good it felt to be with him in a fleeting quiet moment. I only thought about the maddening whirlwind inside my own head.

In the months following after the incident all I could think about was how much a I failed as a friend. Could I even say I was his friend to begin with? Did I not carry a double agenda with each action I took? Haven't I been betraying my best friends for years? Wasn't being a 'golden trio' a lie from the very start? I dug myself a grave but it was Harry who lied in it.

He struggled and brooded about it for maybe a few weeks and all I did was just hopelessly let him gut himself about it. I offered no solution and threw it all on his shoulders until it crushed him.

I watched him eat himself up every time he stood in front of Ron or Ginny, I watched him turn pale when I was around, tense and on complete edge. I knew my presence was driving him mad in a very bad way. He could barely eat to begin with but his appetite just completely dissolved afterwards. He avoided everybody. He got worse.

I was agonized.

I felt worse than shit, I felt like nothing but a slut. I didn't even deserve to feel heartbroken I would think. And I knew the best solution for Harry was for me to just disappear. It was eating him away to have me around. I knew that I was far more expendable to him than the Weasley's who would have been devastated if they found out what had happened. Especially Ginny.

And so I left.


	6. Chapter 6

I went to go get back my parents in Australia. It was the only thing I could think of doing.

I looked high and low for Wendell and Monica Wilkins. I found them on the obituary list of members who died in a massive traffic accident one month prior. They had adopted a little eight girl after a year of being settled in Australia. The little girl named Topanga Kelly had spent seven months in their care before being sent back to an orphanage after their deaths.

I was already three months pregnant when I found this out.

I was barely making it. In that small flat barely big enough to fit a Gringotts goblin I was losing my mind. I had no money, no job, just countless stress, hormones and depression. I had spent all my money paying a detective to help me find my parents in the big unfamiliar country and food and I wasn't getting hired for any jobs pregnant so I couldn't afford to take Topanga Kelly/Wilkins. I couldn't afford to help myself. I toyed with the idea of going back to England but then an image of Harry, skinny, weak, on the brink, would pop into my head and the idea would be killed.

So I turned to the wizarding world. It was easy to find a job then with my credintals. I became a legal assistant to an arrogant pompous ass who reminded me of Draco Malfoy. His name was Trevor Dunn and was a bloody brilliant legal wizarding attorney with a quick mouth and judgmental harsh and critical eyes.

Every day I would come into work he would make some snide remark about my disastrous appearance or my personality.

'_Hair got you in a bush, eh, love?'_

'_Fancy some coffee with that neurasthenia?'_

_'Yes, Yes, Granger I know you're nobodies fool but perhaps maybe someone will adopt you?'_

_'If I said anything to be sorry to you about then it's probably about your hair, love.'_

and so on and so forth.

He never tired of it.

Of course after my parents death and the raging hormones of pregnancy, I wasn't a right walk in the park. However, one thing he did not gab on about was the actual work I did for him, sure he might complain of my attitude while doing it like a rat bastard but he never had a problem with what I turned in.

And he had moments of true kindness. He let me come in late when I had morning sickness with only a remark about my 'haggard and disastrous hair!' let me have my mopping moments when my hormones would rage and I'd feel depressed and anguished over everything, which happened quite often. He would even grace my 'foul rat hole apartment' with food, medicine and books. He never batted an eyelash when I would lash out at him for every little thing, he just took it all in stride, with a level voice, unwavering blue eyes, and sarcastic quibs that I came to enjoy rebuking with my own.

I came to really rely on him. Though I would never admit it, then again it was something that didn't need to be said. Most of the time when he came over he would sneakily leave me some money when i would rant and rave at him for it he would calmly say to shut up and take it since I not only have to think about myself but my child. I honestly think without him and his generosity, I would have lost my baby to malnutrition.

In the final months of my pregnancy there was a world wind of ups and downs that I mentally went through. Bitterness and anger towards Harry, towards the Weasleys, towards the world, towards my baby consumed me. I would play back and forth with hating my child for ever being born to needing my child like a life line. I almost everyday thought about what would have happened if I would have went to get my parents much sooner. If I hadn't messed with their minds at all. If I hadn't meet Harry at all. If I hadn't been a witch at all. If I had never been born at all.

I hated myself. I hated how my parents died having no recollection of me. I hated how I screwed up Harry, left England with no explanation at all. Hated how I just couldn't be honest with myself about my feelings for Harry way sooner. How I had done too little too late and too much too soon towards Harry.

I hated how I was going to be a mother without having my mother around. I hated how this pregnancy had happened completely unlike anything I had ever imagined as I was a kid. I hated how this child would probably never know its father, never know any grandparents, never get the love of a fulfilling and complete family.

In the dark dark recesses of my mind I thought it would be better to just stop the misery before it happened. I wanted to kill it and myself. I had wished death.

I was sick. Mentally warped. It felt surreal.

Trevor was like a god-send during those times. He saw back then something vital. He saw me breaking. He didn't know my circumstances, he didn't question anything. He didn't look at me with disgusted, pitying eyes. He was just there for me. He encouraged me to talk, to write a journal for my baby with my hopes, ambitions and all the good things. He tried and sometimes succeeded in making me think optimistically, of dragging me out of my own personal hell I was creating for myself.

He was so amazing. So simplistic in his comforting ways. He took care of everything for me to the point that I became so reliant that I never felt a worry about anything. He got all the necessity, baby clothes, diapers, car seat, baby stroller, baby crib, baby bottle, burping blankets, diaper bag, bibs, pacifiers, sanitizers, everything! He even got things for me, like what I would wear once I get out of the hospital, special soups, potions for the pain afterwards and the like.

I wanted to know more about him since he seemed so adept in taking care of pregnant women. I had asked him if he had ever been through pregnancy before since he knew everything, he had smiled sort of sadly and said no, though he's been around for his sisters. I asked him where his family is, he told me that one sister lives in Korea, the other not too far away in Australia, and that his parents live in England. I asked him if he would let me and my child become part of his family, he told me he would never have it otherwise. I asked him why he wasn't already married with kids of his own, he said that he had been married once but his marriage ended when his wife couldn't deal with his inability to give her children because he was sterile. I told him that I didn't think I would be a good parent by myself and that I wanted to raise this child like it was his and he told me that he would.

And when my water broke he took me to the hospital ward and didn't let go of my hand. Not even for a second.


	7. Chapter 7

When I held my baby in my arms I never knew such peace. It was like the universe had settled into place. There was nothing else but him. His magnificence was beyond astronomical. It was galactic.

I couldn't even feel myself, couldn't even hear, I could only see. See his splendid face go from irritated and ballistic, to settled and quiet in my arms. I could see nothing but him, his black hair, his pink skin, his little fingers, his little nose, his tiny mouth, his closed squinted eyes. I got to kiss his little hand and say my words of adoration before they took him away. Trevor went with him.

And then it was time for me to be stitched up.

At first I couldn't understand it. I was outraged; I screamed, no howled, for my baby, wrestled with the nurses and the doctor. Embarrassingly enough they threatened to tranquilize me if I didn't calm down. But I just couldn't understand why they would take me away from the utter and complete bliss I had been feeling with my baby in my arms just moments before. I had only gotten to say his name once while I was holding him.

'Rayne William Potter'

I named him Rayne for the soft pitter patter that I know associate with memories of Harry, his middle name William after my fathers real name and gave him his fathers last name in a cowardly way of respecting Harry because I wasn't giving Harry a choice of whether to be a part of Rayne's life or not. It took me a long time to decide whether to do that or to give Rayne my own or Trevor's but in the end I decided I was being selfish enough by keeping Harry's son to myself so my guilty conscious made me put Potter.

The hours couldn't go any faster until I could hold Rayne again. I couldn't even fathom my previous thoughts anymore. I felt so utter complete in my life. I had my boy, Rayne and I had my support Trevor.

Yes, such fulfilling times.

When we were discharged from the hospital, we didn't go back to my place. Clever Trevor, as I started to call him, had moved my belongings to his humongous flat smack dab in the city while we were in the hospital. I was beyond relieved to be out of that place.

Trevor became a camera man and Rayne and I were his subjects. He took moving pictures and video tapes of us all the time. He was like a grown up child. The way he would talk all serious at directing us to look this way and look that way, all the while flitting about like a kid was endearing. I found it adorable. Though I found nothing more adorable that Rayne.

Everything Rayne did was exceptional; when he yawned, when he burped, when he would curl is tiny fingers around my finger, when he would gurgle and sleep, when he opened his eyes and smiled.

Luckily, he had my eyes. Though horrible to say, I didn't want to have to look at my son and feel a dull ache because his eyes were like Harry's. Although I still saw Harry every time I looked at Rayne, but at least it wasn't like I was looking into a mirror image. I was glad that there was me in there too. Trevor like that too, he said he thought the color of my eyes were beautiful. I told him that was bullocks since they are only brown and he laughed and said I had no idea of what the kind of power my eyes had. I tried to make him elaborate on what he meant but Trevor wouldn't budge, he just smiled and said it was better if I didn't know or I would use that power against him to make him wrapped around my little finger. I laughed and said he was wrapped around my little finger regardless.

It took a year after Rayne's birth for me to tell Trevor I loved him. Trevor had been whispering me his undying love almost every night as we slept snuggled together before sleeping so when I finally told him I loved him my stubborn, rude and obnoxious prideful Trevor smiled happily and shed a single tear. I cried a little myself, for all the right reasons and all the wrong.

I told Rayne that I loved him everyday. I said it multiple times a day; I couldn't say it enough. I felt love for him all the time.


	8. Chapter 8

The years went all like this.

Us in that huge three bed roomed flat just living happily together.

The raw wounds from the past were healed; all that remained were scars. When Rayne had turned two years old and was going through some serious trouble, those damn troublesome twos; I thought back to Topanga. I felt guilt. I decided to talk to Trevor about her and how I wanted to help her. I had been keeping tabs on her to see if she had been adopted again or not and if she was doing okay. Topanga had not been adopted again; at eight, nine, ten years old it is considered too old to adopt commonly.

I wondered about her feelings. If she was said or lonely. Trevor was upset that I had never brought up Topanga before. He said he would have helped her had he known about her sooner. I told him that I didn't know how to bring her up to him when she was already a pregnant woman. Trevor had just scoffed at her and then called up some of his connections. He told me that the choice was mine; we could either adopt her into the family or we could find a pleasant household to adopt her where she could be happy. I told him I had to think about it.

I was scared. I wondered what she would say being around magical people. Topanga was definitely muggle; she had no magical abilities plus she had no idea who I was. What if she blamed me for my...our parents deaths? What if she hated me after I told her? What if she was bitter and mad? Wished that it had been me instead? Told me to go to hell for doing too little too late and for trying to do to much too soon?

Trevor was impatient on letting me decide. He told me that he had no problems financially supporting the four of us if he thought that was what was making me hesitate. I told him that wasn't it. I told him my worries. He told me very seriously '_You know my love, I'm not a religious man but you make me believe in reincarnation because I just can't fathom how one could be so stupid in only one lifetime._' I socked him a good one and told him where he could shove it.

Having gone through pregnancy has made me more brutal physically. Surely, if a woman can push out a baby from her naughty bits, then a man could take a few punches from a woman.

Eventually, I just went to the orphanage and asked Topanga what she wanted. I gave her the choice; something I decided was important for every person to have. She told me she wanted to stay in the orphanage. To her, being adopted was no longer important, what was important were the children that needed her to comfort them in that orphanage. She had formed strong bonds with many of the children in that place and she said to leave them was something she did not want. She told me, though, that she would like to keep in touch and write to each other, possibly see each other for tea sometime.

She turned eleven that year; I thought to myself that she was by far the most magical being I had ever met. From then on every weekend I brought snuck her out of the orphanage to spend some time with me.

Another year passed with only blissful memories. Trevor, Rayne, Topanga and I growing each day; learning from each other, loving each other, having insurmountable happy fleeting moments that I thought would last forever.


	9. Chapter 9

The sickness started very slow and tortuously.

A cough here, a cough there. Then heavy strained breathing, pale complexion, sweaty forehead.

And all the inabilities... The inability to climb stairs, to walk for more than fifteen minutes, to keep any food down, to stop shaking; all that he could do was sleep and throw up. Sometimes he'd through up blood.

Trevor was very sick...

The worst inability he had was his inability to remember who we were. Sometimes he thought I was one of his sisters and Rayne his nephew. He would keep looking at me and smiling calling me Elizabeth and Rayne, Cory. Other times he thought I was a doctor trying to poison him with drugs; In those times he would somehow acquire inhuman like strength and kick Rayne and me out. Other times he couldn't even see Trevor and thought I was his ex-wife, Stacey.

The doctors at the muggle hospital told me it was a malignant tumor and they suggested operation with a thirty five percent chance of brain damage; the doctors at the magical hospitals told me he had Thumberlidous, which is basically a muggles version of a magical operated cancer; they shaved off Trevors beautiful blonde locks and performed many spells and operations on him.

Both of them told me that Trevor only had two months to live.

The months back then went by like this; wake up, clean off Trevor, sneak in his prescribed potions into his breakfast, wrestle as he pitched a fit trying not to eat it, clean up the mess, take Trevor to his daily doctor appointment at noon, hear more bad news, go home and try to cook a meal and sneak in more potions, wrestle with Trevor again, clean up the mess again, watch him as he slept, weep, clean up some more and then fall asleep.

This was how it went for five months.

I noticed nothing but Trevor. Sometimes I would notice Topanga coming over but I never really saw anything. I was just mechanical, zombie like. I lived for the fleeting seconds where Trevor might look up at me with some sense of normalcy in his eyes just like his old self. I lived for the moment where he would breath out a whispered, '_love you, love you 'mione_'

Soon enough, Trevor was permanently hospitalized, which in turn, permanently hospitalized me. I never left his side. I just clung to his cold, bony, unresponsive hand like it was a life saver. I prayed every day that Trevor wouldn't leave me. I needed Trevor, he saved me from an endless abyss. He brought me back to happiness, he gave me love so sweet and endless. I couldn't fathom life without Trevor, I didn't want to.

I became a desperate woman. I hounded the doctors every hour if there was anything else that could be done. I begged and begged for them to help him, to make him better and when they told me they had done all they could, I cursed them, I screamed and howled until they would tranquilize me.

Once again I was a hopeless woman. I was consumed by my grief. They catalyst was when the doctors told me that they had called Trevor's parents back in England, told them Trevor's situation and asked them if they wanted to cut off Trevor's life support or let him continue to remain in a vegetable like state. The doctors had told them that either way, nothing would help cure Trevor at this point. His parents decided it would be best to let him go.

I lost it.

I pleaded with the doctors to reconsidered, told them that I would pay them upteen amounts of money if they didn't cut his life support. I told them that they couldn't possibly think that Trevor was incurable. I told them that they had already been wrong on how long he would live for so they were definitely wrong about Trevor. They didn't know Trevor like I did. He was stubborn and reliable. Resilient and strong. He could recover from this. They had no right to take him away from me.

They told me I had no right to choose anything for Trevor. Technically they were right; I was not his wife, his mother, his sister or any kind of family member. So I had no choice.

When Trevor's family came to the hospital, that was when they cut of his life support. He died an hour later. I was not allowed to be in the room with him. I didn't get to hold his hand and say my goodbyes. I didn't get to whisper my love into his ear and let him pass with me right next to him. Instead I was alone outside praying with clenched fists that this was all a nightmare.

I became consumed with grief.


	10. Chapter 10

When Trevor died, I felt like I wasn't even real anymore. I was stuck in my own head replaying all of our happy memories.

I replayed the time we first met. I was three months pregnant and desperate for some money. I had swooped into his office with my resume ready to perfection, I gave a long speech about my education, showed off my intelligence, passed the required skills testing and stared him down with determination and ferocity.

He told me I was hired immediately after I stopped talking. Then added that his only demand was that I fix my rats nest hair.

And the rest after that was history.

I replayed all of our banter, his witty jibes and comebacks, his cheeky smirk, his intelligent, wise blue eyes. I replayed the time he first told me he loved me, eyes like calming pools of love, with cheeks tinted a slight red as he looked at me, eight months pregnant arguing with him on how I was going to get right back to work after pregnancy, he had just blurted out to me that he loved me. I replayed the nights when I was so consumed with fear and hatred and how his arms felt holding me tight as he soothed me back to reason. I replayed how it felt to have him running his hands through my hair as he fixed me up, stroking the come through my wet locks gently rubbing his finger through and rubbing my scalp into bliss, looking all adorable with a hair tie in his mouth.

I remember his tear when I told him I loved him, how great it felt to make love for the first time. How good he took care of me, driving me crazy with confessions whispered into my ear, and kisses placed all over me and hands stroking and kneading me pouring every inch of my body with his love.

I was trapped in these endless memories. It was like a nightmare replaying over and over in my mind.

I felt so cold all the time. I felt like nothing mattered.

At his funeral I couldn't even feel a thing at all. I could just see him lying so still in his coffin. His parents had handled all the funeral arrangements, I vaguely remember seeing his ex-wife there with her new husband and young girl. His sister was a mess, sobbing the entire time. Many people who were there I didn't recognize, they all greeted each other, hugged and said their condolences but no body came up to me. No body even knew who I was. Many whispered about who I was to him for him to leave everything he had to me with the exception of a few things for his sisters.

I couldn't take it. All these strange people who didn't even know what Trevor and I had. Why were they there, why wasn't Trevor not with me. I was being driven mad.

Until a soft small hand slowly placed itself into mine. I jumped from the shock and the hand quickly pulled away. I looked down at the child beside me as if looking at an alien. Rayne looked at my hand and then his before letting his hand drop, the saddest look on his face, but he was not crying.

Instead it was me who broke down into tears.


	11. Chapter 11

Like lightening bolts shooting down my spin and shocking my core, the effect of really seeing Rayne and feeling his touch and not bypassing him like I had been doing for months was unrealistic.

Faintly I can recall in the harrowing times of Trevor's death, seeing my boy often times alone with his back turned away from me, eating. I recall moments of watching him with Topanga before she stopped coming around. I recall him sometimes just watching me.

I never recall him talking to me.

I never recall him crying.

Like an obedient, scared animal, my boy just patiently waited for me to remember him. He would behave on his best and then surely I would take notice of just what a good boy he is.

But I didn't. I had abandoned my son mentally. I felt ashamed.

However, I knew I had no time to really regret it. I told my self the best action was not to fall into self-loathing for being the worst mother but to spend all my time making up for what I had done.

And so I did.

After breaking down in the middle of the funeral, on my knees and hugging my child. I returned to myself. I swore my whole being to Rayne. I would never leave him lonely again.

We did everything together; Rayne was always by my side. I woke up in the mornings and prepared him breakfast, then went and woke him up with whatever funny means necessary, he especially liked him when I tickled him away. It became a sort of game to see just how long he could pretend to be asleep before he went into a fit of giggles. Then we'd go back to the kitchen, eat our breakfast, watched the telly and so on.

I tried to teach Rayne knew things everyday though I could see right off the bat that he didn't carry such a love like I had towards books. He was more like Harry in that respect. He looked a lot like Harry too.

Though, every night he would eagerly await for my bed time stories. That became like a game as well, to see if he could stay up and listen to the full story or fall asleep. He enjoyed the tale of the three brothers and the tales of Aladdin. He loved them all really. I loved reading to him. To watch him all snuggled up in his blankets as his brown eyes the exact same shape as Harry's would strain to stay open, to see him clutching tight to his favorite stuffed animal Mr. Dinky the Donkey. I took many pictures of his sleeping face.

I also video taped our excursions during the days. When we would go to the zoo and look at all the animals and touch the kangaroo's, stare at the lions and tigers. When we traveled to the infamous aquarium and saw the massive manatees, the sting rays, the sharks and dolphins. Or when we'd go to the beach and run around, splash in the breathtakingly beautiful waters and sometimes even pet the dolphins. When we'd go eat at the local park and feed the birds and the squirrels. When we got Bane, the new born German Shepard whom Rayne adored. I made sure to get it all on film.

Slowly, but surely I tried to heal the unintentional wound I had inflicted onto my own precious son. I knew that that also meant not relocating Rayne away from the apartment that he was raised in. He had grown to love it there because he had made good friends with the boys who also lived in the apartments.

To stay in that apartment meant that I had to move up from second legal assistant to just a full out legal attorney like Trevor was. It was hard to try to do that without taking away time with Rayne who was my utmost top priority. So I did a lot of training at night and got little to no sleep. It was brutal and exhausting but I was all that Rayne had and so I gave 120 percent.

It didn't take long for me to get the position but becoming a legal attorney meant long hours and stress to the max. Trying to prove a case using magic required extensive knowledge of key magical aspects, things that cannot really be taught by book but took experience. I had great help though from the ties I had already formed working under Trevor. Many time I relied on the people who were once close to Trevor to help me get through a case like by borrowing their legal assistants or getting second opinions from them on leads and what not.

Eventually though, I became too strained and stressed and realized that by over working myself to keep the apartment was again only going to hurt Rayne if I kept constantly coming home already at my limit. So I when Rayne turned four, I put him into preschool and then a daycare center. It was the only solution I could think of that would be best for Rayne. I could have just moved away but another part of me wanted to keep the connection I felt with Trevor through that flat. I was stubborn.

Besides, at the daycare Rayne could make more friends and open up more, widen his friendships to being more than just his mother and Dinky Donkey.

A few months after putting Rayne in daycare and trying my best at work; A break finally came.


	12. Chapter 12

The break came in the form of a huge case.

It was a case of a crazy magical wizard killing off squibs all around Australia and in two other nations including England and New Zealand . If I could prove the case against him in court then I would gain recognition across all three country of being the one who finally put 'behind bars' the most wanted wizard in the wizarding world, Royland Garrith aka the Mad Hater, crudely named for the way he would piece of the top portion of his victims head while they were still alive and then rape them after they were dead, man or female.

He was one fucked up creature. Many people told me that I was biting off more then I could chew with a case like this since the guy was completely mental. I had to admit in my gut I toyed with backing out, it being far too dangerous with Royland Garrith being the whacked out son of a wealthy broom making enterprise.

But I wanted that recognition, I wanted that case.

I had no idea what I was truly getting myself into.

It started with having an interview with guilty party and his lawyers. The father had made sure to higher one of the best ones for intimidation purposes so that when we met to settle the charges it would be down quick and quietly.

But I was a Gryffindor once, and the brightest witch of her age.

Faced with the demure aristocratic inbred pompous I felt some of that old fire come back, the determination.

I didn't back down. Mr. Garrith eyed me with cold dead eyes that screamed desolation and heartlessness. I late my hate for that disgusting glare fuel my own rage and held my place. I had challenged the bull.

The battle was intense. It invaded my every waking moment. The only times of solace from threatening letters and constant media pressure and stress was in the moments I got to share with Rayne. The games we played without fail before putting him to bed at night. I tried to never mix my time with for work with my time with my son. I separated the two.

It was my mistake.

I had been too arrogant. I should have known better than to ignore the threats. I was especially stupid to shrug off the attack against me when I was walking out of the offices. The men that grabbed me once I was outside the building, pushed me up again the brick in the dark shadows silencing me with their wands and invaded my person by threatening me that If I didn't drop the case or agree to a settlement that they would come after me. Do horrible things to me.

No, I brushed it all off. Told my boss not to worry. Told myself not to panic that it was just to scare me. It wasn't like they had hurt me, they just were trying to intimidate me.

I should have remembered his eyes. His dead cold eyes, the stare that they fixed me with.

I had not taken precautions.

And that I will always regret.


	13. Chapter 13

I always loved to rufffle my boys hair. It was exactly like his fathers; black unruly long. No matter how many times I would sit him down and cut it, it grew back within a day.

I always pretended that I was annoyed when he didn't brush it and left it tousled but I really loved it. He was so adorable; I loved watching him come sit down to eat breakfast with me after brushing his teeth with groggy little footsteps rubbing his eyes with his donkey he so loved and his cute little pajamas.

I loved when he would tell a story about school. How excited he got, waving his arms talking with big wide eyes, tumbling over the words in his fever to express himself. I loved the sound of his laughter, his bashful smile, his innocence. I loved watching him discover new things everyday. I loved being his mother. I was glad everyday for it. I felt so blessed each time I got to scoop you up into my arms and you'd look at me with that look only present during childhood, the look that only a child could give; Utter trust, reliance, happiness and need.

It gave me completeness. I was the only person in this world that could receive those emotions. Even if I were to die. I was always and forever his mother.

It didn't matter how stressful work would get. All I needed was to see him, just see his tiny little face and I'd feel calm. It didn't even matter if he were to be grouchy or mad at mommy for being late, just to see him...it was all I needed.

Of course, it was always the best when he would smile; he had a 100-watt smile. It is something that is more beautiful than anything I had every seen. Rayne's face would just bloom; flushed cheeks, sparkly eyes, dimples and teeth and a glow that penetrated my being with love.

Rayne was always the happiest playing; most of the time with Bane. He'd giggle like a mad man, run faster than the wind, howl like a wolf to the moon. It was great because he had a huge landscape as his jungle gym. Australia was a great place for him to be raised at. There were all kinds of hills and tall grasses, woods, and plains. He loved to swing on the swing sets or jump into the pool, swim in the ocean. Always there was an activity he wanted to do, climbing, throwing, running, chasing, crushing, swimming, hiding, exploring. I adored his boundless energy.

I hated his inability to listen to rules.

Rayne like Harry and myself, had a huge tendency to break the rules whether it be my own or the teachers in his pre-k class. He was breaking rules constantly. If you told him not to touch something he would immediately touch it, if you told him not to go somewhere, he'd immediately go there. He loved mischief.

He also did fantastic in school, which surprised me because he never cracked open his school books. He was just a naturally smart boy. One of the ones who didn't have to work hard to get one hundreds on tests. He got the ABC's and 123's with ease, learned his colors like nothing. It gave me pride.

Nothing was better than my son. Nothing ever could be. And I was so lucky because he would always be my son forever. I would get to spend my life raising him even when I turned old and grey.

Because of course parents are supposed to die before their children. I would be old and grey, and my son would have a family of his own and I would die only knowing this peaceful life of just me and my son working to live in this crazy world.

At least that is what I naturally thought.

But instead I buried my child when he was only six years old.


	14. Chapter 14

Draco Malfoy...


	15. Chapter 15

"Fucking hell!" Draco yelled for what felt like the hundredth time.

Diagon Alley was in a huge bustle and Draco did not like it. Kids running about everywhere, snot nosed and loud; adults scrambling with packages, trying to keep up with their kids not paying attention, bumping into Draco. And it was driving him mad.

Scowling like mad Draco swore that the next filthy kid or clueless parent that bumps into him was going to get a curse that shot off their arse. Or better yet, if he even sees one do it to someone else he would still blow the stupid prats arse off just to teach them a lesson. And because he was in a foul mood.

"Draco! Over here!"

Swiveling around toward the sound of the voice, Draco found the reason why he had even stepped a toe into Diagon Alley the day before Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry started.

"Blanche." Draco said dispassionately as he came up to the poised figure of his ex-wife.

"Oh don't sound so excited darling." she responded sarcastically as she stood up from her seat and quickly finished off the rest of her wine glass. Draco let himself watch her for a moment; how could he not. His ex-wife was hot. A natural blonde, with legs for miles, breast like perky full mounds and a round ass fit and tight and begging to be slapped. He almost wished he was back with her just so he could strip off her tight red sundress and have at her like a wild animal.

But of course, it was Draco's wild ways that caused the divorce in the first place. Who would have thought that she had actually cared about fidelity? Draco didn't.

"What are you looking at?" Blanche asked sourly, her full red lips pulling down into a frown.

"At that needlessly gigantic hat you're wearing. Really puppet and you call yourself a fashion designer?" Draco shot out immediately. Blanche shook her head, probably rolling her eyes behind the designer shades she was wearing.

"I don't know what I ever saw in you?"

"Probably what I saw in you, luv. A good fuck."

"Oh go to hell you bloody tosser." Blanche cursed out as she picked up her purse. Draco smirked at the light blush on her cheeks. He liked to get his normally classy ex-wife riled up when she was trying to be all aloof, it made him feel good. Manly.

"I went through hell already trying to get here puppet, all because I was summoned by your majesty so you bloody well better tell me why I am wasting my time here on my day off instead of shagging my new assistant." Draco enjoyed watching Blanches frown deepen at the mention of shagging his secretary.

"Its about Cassie."

That was all she needed to say. Immediately Draco's smirk slipped off to be replaced with his own frown as it did with any mention of his daughter.

"What's wrong?" Now it was Blanche's turn to smirk.

"Look at you being all concerned..." she said amused.

"Piss off! What's going on?" Draco demanded his voice with an edge that deepened Blanches smirk.

"Well, I'm going on a trip to visit the states to promote my latest designs. I will be very busy so I need you to take Cassie for oh...about a month."

"What! You shitting me Blanche?" Draco raged as Blanche outright laughed.

"No, no. Not shitting you luv. I can't take her with me. Sorry to rain on you shagging plans but she will have to stay with you."

"Why can't she stay with you mother? Or your bloody sister for Merlins sake Bla-"

"Because my mother is not Cassie's fucking father, you asshole!" Blanche roared. For all her bad points Draco had to give it to her in only one thing, she was a better mother than he gave her credit for. So much so that when she reared her motherly head she always successfully subdued Draco into silence.

Though, when it came to Cassie Draco was always subdued.

Taking a deep breath, Blanche patted down her hair and adjusted her dress.

"Right, well, I will have Cassie sent to you tomorrow and- no, no Draco! Don't you give me that bloody look! She will be coming to the manor so you better not be shagging any secretary lady and you better make a better effort towards her too! Take her out to dinner some where, or to the playground don't just bloody sit there in silence with her and watch quidditch matches all day...Cassie needs to know a father and have memories, not just...I don't know... an annoyed father. Take some time to-"

"Oh for bloody christ sakes shut up already woman! I'll take her out and _play_ with her you wench." Draco interrupted gruffly. Blanche smiled half heartedly then frowned.

"I mean it Draco. She loves you...she's always so excited when you guys get to see each other. She wants a father. She wants you Draco." Blanche said, her voice getting slightly raw. Draco almost blanched, was his tough as bulls ex-wife getting chocked up in front of him?

"What the bloody hell is the matter with you?" Draco gawked. Awkwardly Blanche wiped her eyes underneath her sunglasses.

"Anyway. You better well take good care of her okay Malfoy! If you make her cry or if you upset her and don't pay attention to her I swear...!" Blanche threatened her face scrunching up with tears. Draco reached out his hands to lay on both of her shoulders as she finally took off her sunglasses to wipe her unrelenting tears. He hadn't seen Blanche this upset in, well, ever really. She was always so bull headed with him, except of course in the beginning but even back then she was always a classy empowered woman. She never showed him any weakness not even when they fell out and had a divorce because of his infidelities and career obsessed ways.

"Hey, hey. Its alright, its alright." Draco comforted as she started to sob quietly. He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her; to Draco's surprise she just let him. "I promise Ill be good. I'm not that terrible I'll feed her and spend time with her and and I wont bring any women back to the manor or anything. So don't worry so much, yeah?"

"Promise me okay?" her voice was muffled from his chest.

"Yeah, yeah. I promise." Draco soothed as she finally stopped crying.

Pulling away from him Blanched fixed her blue eyed gaze into Draco's grey. For the first time in a long time Draco felt like he might have made a mistake towards her. He should have loved her better. Watching her with red eyes and a frazzled flush face Draco couldn't help but think she actually looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her.

"Okay, I don't trust you Draco, but I'll believe you." She said. Draco didn't respond. He couldn't he just kept gazing at her, trying to decipher what the strange feeling he had in his chest was.

Once again wiping her tears, Blanche put on her sunglasses and smiled sadly.

"Well, I'm going. I'm already late for an interview. Cassie will be at your house early morning so be ready. Taa." Blanche said, still un-moving. Strangely enough Draco didn't want her to leave just yet.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry if I had hurt you." Draco said. This time when Blanche smiled, it was genuine.

"Too little too late, luv." Blanche responded sadly looking at the floor before back at him and walking away. Draco watched her go for a few second before he called out to her.

"Hey! Did you really have to drag me here to tell me all this?" Draco watched as her red lips formed into a smirk over her shoulder before she disappeared into the sea of people.

"Bloody bint." Draco said to himself, but it was with a smile.


	16. Chapter 16

As promised, Cassie arrived at Draco's own personal manor called Wiltshire Manor at approximately eight thirty in the morning. She had arrived with a huge amount of luggage trailing behind her.

Draco tried to quell his nervousness when she arrived with all of that stuff but he couldn't. Each time Cassie had arrived it was with a small over night travel purse but seeing her with all of her stuff made Draco realize just how real it was. Cassie was going to come back. She was going to live with him again.

He had only lived with Cassie in her first year of living and it couldn't even be considered living together since he was constantly working and cheating on his stay at home wife.

Even after that Draco never really spent a long period of time with his daughter. He had her for only two days and one night each month and that was it and sadly Draco was very comfortable with that. He was a busy man to say the least. He had a very busy life working hard to get back his fathers previous positions of being on the governors for Hogwarts along with the treasurer of Gringotts and then some by becoming a member of Wizengamot. Of course he had succeed in doing so and had restored himself to his former glory days with wealth and followers.

However, doing all that meant some sacrifices like not spending time with his daughter and losing his wife. And despite what he might say or do to the contrary, Draco did in fact value his family. He had been, after all, a mama's boy and he had been raised watching his own father dote over his mother and heed to her every beck and whim.

But Draco has a bad habit. He compartmentalizes his emotions. He could suppress any yearning, any flicker of want and he did, for his security, for his pride and for the tiny part of him that still felt weak and scared in the war. He wanted normalcy and the only thing that was normal to him back then was wealth and power. So he got it to feel secure again.

And now, staring at his three year old daughter Draco felt a little bit of his emotions let lose; fear, love, and most of all regret.

Standing before him was a extremely skinny surprisingly tall fair little girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked every bit like her mother but she seemed every bit her opposite; unsure, insecure, quiet and humble. Draco wondered if it was his fault.

"Hello Cassie baby! Mummy didn't come with you to drop you off?" Draco asked flicking his wand at her luggage. Cassie shyly shook her head.

"Right. Well It's early have you had breakfast?" Another head shake.

"Are you hungry?" A nod yes.

"What would you like to eat?" A shrug. Draco inwardly sighed it was going to be a long day.


	17. Chapter 17

Draco couldn't understand it. What in the blazes was going on? Where in the world was his ex-wife Blanche?

When a month went by without any word from the super spastic sow Draco did think it was weird; normally when he had Cassie for even a night the mad woman would be flooing him constantly to make sure she was safe. And sure it would be a tad bit harder to floo your head into a fireplace from across sea but still, Draco expected a letter or something. But not a word went by. And then a month passed.

Draco let it slide at first thinking things like she was very busy at work or just testing him to see if he could be responsible and owl her first. But when almost two months passed Draco decided he would try to get in touch with her. And then he realized he had no information on where she was staying or anything. So he payed a visit to Blanche's mother, Ursula.

That visit was quite frankly bizarre. Not only did she not have any idea what I was talking about in regards to Blanche leaving town but she had also had no idea that he had been taking care of Cassie for over a month. So overall visiting had only left more questions than answers.

He didn't know what to do. Using his ministry ties, Draco tried getting a detective to find her. What that resulted in was another month waiting and even more questions. The last thing the detective could tell Draco was that Blanche was last seen in a muggle airport with a man named Tristan Dewipricator, a billionare muggle. And then its like they dropped off the face of the planet. Her job had been taken over by someone else and when Draco went back to her apartment it had been cleared out entirely.

Cassie seemed to not understand as well. She asked him randomly at dinner if mama had sent or letter or if it was time for her to be brought home. Draco had to admit that he really didn't know his child at all, in the three months that he had been living with her, everyday there were new surprises. He had expected that she would be more upset about staying here, constantly bug him when her mama was going to pick her up and take her back home, or be spoiled and loud like Draco was when he was a child...but she was not. She was everything he wasn't back then; quiet, soft spoken, always well behaved and quietly listening, observing and absorbing.

All she wanted was a book, and Draco had found that out all by himself. She never asked for anything, not even food, she just sat there with her blue eyes watching as things happened all around her, watching her father go through his everyday hectic's like where his wand was, his suit, his coffee, what time it was, where was his parchments, always scrambling around on the go.

But gradually Draco started noticing her on the rare occasions he wasn't busy with his work. He'd notice the way she was always watching, always staring at the huge novels on the bookshelves in his library, how she had a very small and bashful smile on her face when he'd hand her the funny parts of the Daily Prophet, how she took very small bits and chewed very slowly and sipped very daintily, almost as if she was savoring every little taste.

Draco found himself sometimes observing her silently like she would. At some point he realized that he had actually grown attached to her. Once she had overslept and had not waited on the staircase facing the door to see him leave and he found that he missed her small almost undetectable figure there.

It was a subtle quite affection but sure. He loved his daughter, though things were rough for him at the start having getting used to someone needing him at home, someone depending on him for food and someone waiting up for him at night. It meant he could no longer spend his nights out that he couldn't just come stumbling home pissed off his rocker. It meant caring for someone, looking out for someone, spending time for someone.

But once he got used to it he wondered why Cassie didn't need him even more. Why she could pick out her outfits and tuck herself into bed and brush her own teeth? Why couldn't she let him do more for her? Why didn't she smile for him more?

It was these thoughts that propelled Draco to take Cassie out to Diagon Alley that day. And it was there that things would start to change...


	18. Chapter 18

Draco couldn't stand crowds anymore.

He couldn't pin point exactly what it was, or rather there was just too many things that he hated about being in crowds... One, some people, especially Hogsmead and Diagon Alley people, didn't bathe up to Draco's standards and they left in his nostrils a putrid stench that reminded him of darker days filled with dirty mangy disgusting evil sick people. Another was that too many people walked with their heads in their arses and didn't watch where they were sodding going and stepped and bumped into him constantly, devaluing his immaculate and perfect appearance. And of course, most importantly, it was very easy to lose things in crowds; purses, wallets, gold, jewelry and the like were all quickly stolen or accidentally knocked off to be only lost for forever and occasionally, albeit rarely and hopefully never, people can go missing in crowds...especially children if one is not careful.

And that is what Draco feared as he took his daughter to go shopping in town.

However, unlike many people, or so he liked and arrogantly thought, he was clever. It was very easy to place a attachment charm to all his belongings including his own daughter.

But as they walked the busy streets, Draco found that most of the other parents with children not yet in Hogwarts, actually held their kids hand in their own... He knew it was the most normal thing to do when you loved your child, in fact, he as a child had walked Diagon Alley holding tightly onto his dear mum's hand. Yet, as he looked down into his daughters daughters face and saw her prominent clear bluish green eyes so far below him staring trans-fixedly around at all there was to see and walking with her own hands dangling by her sides, he wondered if it would be okay to take her tiny, pale, fragile and precious little hands into his own; engulf them in his own in a strong yet gentle hold and encompass them in warmth. To let her know that he was there, that he would _always_ be there.

That he was ready to be her father.

He wanted to so badly take her hand and show her but...

What if she denied him?

What if she flinched away?

What if she hated him?

These what if's plagued Draco as they continued to travel to and fro and he realized that he was stalling, evading the inevitable. He knew he would have to confront her about where he stood in her life, where he wanted to stand, where he should have been all along.

And he knew he had to tell her the truth. That he was all she really had now. That whether she liked it or not, she was stuck with him because her mother had abandoned her or really... more like saved her.

See he had learned not to long ago the truth about his ex-wife and the scandal she had gotten herself involved in. Her once high falutent fashion business going up in flames and plundering her into debt. Her becoming the mistress to the alleged billionaire muggle man with ties to the British magical ministry and that billionaires wife quietly swearing revenge for her embarrassment. And that she, to save her daughter from ridicule and shame at such an early age, decided to leave her with her father.

It took Draco a while to discover this, a long while in fact. A half a year long. Eventually about four months after the alleged time that her mother was supposed to come back and take her home, Cassie finally broke down and asked Draco if her mother had died and Draco had to tell her no but at the time he didn't have any answers and so they didn't really talk about it.

But now he knew and he was stalling. He was stalling heavily. But in the moths that he has gotten with her, Cassie had become the most important thing to him. Something irreplaceable. However, there was still so much hanging between them, most especially his cowardliness and insecurities.

Thus, this little shopping excursion. Draco planned to butter her up with expensive and lavish gifts and treats and bond with her and then apologize to her, ask no beg for her forgiveness and plead for her to let him take back the chance that he had so stupidly through away and make up for the lost years of her life that he had never really been present for.

Yes, that is what he would do. And then surely this time they would be like a real family. Like real father and daughter.

"Cassie, would you like to try out the new treat shop over there? I heard they have flying stitch cakes that you have to catch before you can eat and then you get a treat on the inside-" Draco said pointing at the shop to the right of them. But when he didn't hear a response he looked down to look at her but she wasn't there.

Panic seized Draco as he stared at the empty spot where his daughter stood just a moment before and tried to fathom where there was an empty spot where she just had been. Then adrenaline pumped through him.

"Cassie!" Draco screamed as he searched above the crowds of heads for the pale blonde hair of his daughter. Luckily his height was on his side- unluckily she was no where to be seen.

Shaking Draco hazardously searched all over his person for his wand before realizing that he had it in his hand. Pointing his wand at his throat Draco quickly assured _Sornos_! to amplify his voice.

"CASSIE!" Draco bellowed causing all of the people even remotely near him to flinch horribly and cover their ears. But Draco didn't care, even as the cursed at him. "CASSIE!" he bellowed again only to get no response.

Blood pumped thunderously throughout his body, his heart blaring in his ears. He felt light headed and more scared than he could ever remember feeling. Even in the times of Voldemort in Malfoy Manor.

". Cassie. Cassie" Draco kept saying as he shoved bodies out of his way as he started retracing his steps. It was only when he had passed an arrow did Draco think of casting a locator spell. Immediately the arrow pointed to where he had just came from and sprinting as fast as he could with no remorse as to the people obscuring his way, Draco frantically followed the arrow into the leaky Cauldron where he was standing just moments before.

"Cassie!" Draco screamed as he burst into the place startling many of its patrons but still there were no signs of her. Immediately he grabbed the nearest person who happened to be a disgusting old man with missing teeth.

"Have you seen a little girl? About this tall with blonde hair and green eyes? Answer me!" Draco demanded shaking the drunkard, who stared at him scared and wide eyed.

"N-nn no mmmatee. I ddd-din't ssseee a gi gi girlll." He stuttered but Draco had already threw the man away from him.

"Has anyone seen a little girl in here?" Draco bellowed as many of the occupants just stared at him in fear all wide eyed.

"I did!"

"Yeah, we saw her."

"The little girl went outside to the muggle world."

"Yeah, right she went out there it-"

"She was screaming for her mother."

"Yeah, right before she came in some tall blonde woman had strutted out you know-"

But Draco didn't need to listen to the rest. Running wildly leaping over chairs and literally tossing aside a table much to Tom, the leaky Cauldron's owners avail, Draco hastily ran into the sidewalks of the busy London streets, nearly crushing a small brunette woman. He stood there for a second, his grey eyes skimming the streets for the sight of his daughters stand out hair and found her bounding across a four way crossroads.

"CASSIE!" Draco screamed as he watched horrified as his daughter ran straight into the middle of the road. And Draco swore his heart would burst as turned her head towards him, her face flushed and her eyes wide.

And then it was as if time slowed down. He knew he was running but it was like everything was almost paused, except for the cars. They were heading for his tiny, fragile and bony child like starving wolves to a sheep and they were about to get her crush her between them. No other thought could enter his mind other than a blaring NO!

NONONONONONONONONONONNONONON

NO!

And then, there was a bright light in front of his daughter and she was blown back and there was the sound of screeching tires as the cars spun out of control and hit something that Draco could not see.

And time was spending up again. He was finally next to his daughter who was shaking and crying silently in his lap and someone was screaming for an ambulance.

"Cassie!Cassie!" Draco kept saying over and over as he rocked her back and forth as she stared wide eyed with tears streaming down her face.

"Cassie are you okay." But Cassie wouldn't respond she just kept staring trans fixedly at something beyond Draco. Draco turned his head to look and saw the puddle of blood trailing and spreading down the black top towards them and long thick hair stained with blood but the car was obscuring the view.

"I'msosorryImsosorry!" Cassie started to mumble as she cried as people the people surrounding them made way for the paramedics.

"Are you okay little girl?" Someone shouted from above them but Cassie wouldn't answer.

"Hey you are her father right. We need to take your daughter to the hospital." the muggles kept saying to Draco and then Draco was in an ambulance and his daughter scared and paler than Draco had ever seen her was crying as they tried to calm her down. Draco kept a tight hold on her hand and kept saying her name and making her eyes stay on him.

"Cassie you're okay."

"Everything's alright." Draco kept saying as they got to the hospital.

It was only when his daughter had fallen asleep in sheer exhaustion and shock was he able to calm his own heart down and think.

Immediately he asked the paramedic about the person he had seen who had been hit by the car and what had happened to them.

The nurse had looked at him and said that the woman who was hit had already been transferred to a different hospital in critical condition.

And that her name as Hermione Granger.


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks for the reviews and the support! I know it's been a long time and I apologize but I'm back and will continue writing for this fiction!

The shock of hearing the name Hermione Granger in over eight years left Draco staring dumbly at the nurse for a moment before he regained his composure.

"Thank you. I'll make sure to check up on her condition." Draco said, dismissing the nurse. A wide range of thoughts flouted in his head; his baby girl almost got herself killed and he would have been useless to stop it. And out of all the people in the world it was Granger who saved his daughter, a girl he had made sure to pick on for seven years...

The irony was not lost on him. Of course, he was mature enough not to think of her as 'mudblood Granger' anymore but it still kind of irked him that it had to be her to save his daughter. Or maybe he was just frustrated with himself for not being able to save her.

However, that didn't mean that he wasn't going to give Granger a hefty thank you... if she made it through all this alright. Draco brooded for a bit; the nurse had said that she had been rushed to a different hospital in critical condition which really meant she was taken to St. Mungos. He had faith that the hospital would be able to cure Granger and mend her up but a cloud of uncertainty rose within him. What if they couldn't help her? What if Granger died to protect his daughter? What was he supposed to do with that on his conscience?

Needless to say, by the time the doctors told him that his daughter was healthy and able to go home, Draco had brooded himself into a cloud of stress. It didn't stop the wave of relief he felt that his daughter was going to be alright and he could take her home like all this hadn't even happened.

But it did and Granger was the evidence of that. Yet, he didn't let himself think about it much more after that, he had to take Cassie home.

When Draco saw his daughter again, he almost felt the urge to cry. She looked so slight walking out of the hospital room, like a lily flower and she refused to meet Draco's eyes. Unable to control himself, Draco took long legged strides to stand in front of her, then sunk down on one knee so they were semi level. She continued to fix her watery gaze down at the floor, so Draco gently took her chin in his hand and lifted her face so they were level.

"I am so happy you're alive." Draco said with so much emotion as Cassie broke down like a dam, climbing into his lap like a monkey.

"Daddy, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry Daddy! I won't ever do that again, I promise! I'm sorry!" Cassie cried, heavy great gasping sobs into his shoulders. Draco let out a breath of relief as he pulled her tightly to him and leaned his chin on her tiny shoulder.

"It's okay Cassie. Daddy forgives you completely. I know you're sorry." Draco said, running a soothing hand down her blonde hair as she continued to cry.

"I just thought I saw mummy and I really wanted to see her-"

"Shh. It's alright Cassie, It's alright." Draco felt a well of emotion as he listen to his daughter's sobbing words. He felt sorrow that he was unable to raise her in a happy home with her mother, that she had been dealt such selfish parents. He vowed right then to do whatever he could to change that and do her right like she deserved even if he had to do it alone.

It wasn't until way later that Draco thought about Granger again. He wondered about her presence in England. Last he had heard she had moved to Australia, which had surprised him to no end that she didn't stick around with her precious Weasley and Potter but that had been years and years ago. He wondered when she came back and why he heard nothing about it. Surely the return of a war veteran/golden trio member would cause quite a stir in the wizarding world, but he had not read one single thing about her in the Prophet...

His questions were all answered when he opened up the Prophet the next morning and saw the headline; Granger of the Golden Trio Returns to England With A Bang! By Rita Skeeter.

Intrigued, Draco continued to read the article.

Midday Yesterday, eye witness accounts said they saw a bushy headed female being ushered into St. Mungos Hospital where medi witches confirmed that this woman is indeed a Ms. Hermione Granger, still unmarried. "Miss. Granger has suffered substantial head injuries to the back of the head and her temple, she also has suffered broken ribs. So far we have only been able to fix up her ribs and stop the bleeding to her head but of her mental condition when she wakes up is still left for speculation." reveals a one handsome and knowledgable medi-wizard named Alfred Bones. Questions rose up on how Ms. Hermione Granger came into such a state and why are still unanswered as Ms. Hermione Granger has still yet to wake up. Curiously though, none of the other members of the golden trio members were there to check upon their one time inseparable other half which might confirm previous rumors that Ms. Hermione Granger left England on bad terms with her counterparts. "So far as I know, no one has tried to contact Granger in years." says long time friend Colin Creevey. "and Granger hasn't tried to contact them either." It's safe to say even with all the mysteries and unanswered questions, Ms. Hermione Granger will have a lot to answer for when those two big round eyes open up.


End file.
